This is that journal.
This short story is roughly 9000 words in length, and contains sexy scenes of sexy fun between co-workers, the budding relationship between a newly awakened sub and her dom, light BDSM, and girl-on-girl action.
His touch is
so strong and patient, and he softly narrates what he’s putting into my mouth,
detailing where the chocolate came from, how the coconut was harvested, the fat
content of the creme, and so on.
Everything’s
warm and hazy, like a dream. I’ve eaten about four or so of the treats before I
realize that he’s resting his hand on my thigh. I inhale sharply.
I think he
notices and gives me a devilishly playful look, as he brings a chocolate
covered strawberry to my mouth. I attempt
to bite it, but he holds back, causing me to blush. He smirks, and proceeds to
trace the tip of the strawberry along my lips. It feels
heavenly.
Feeling my
cheeks flush rosy red, and without looking away I give him a little show. I
know, that was very, very uncharacteristic of me.
I lick the
tip of the strawberry, tasting the silky, imported chocolate on my tongue.
Leaning forward, I purse my lips around the bottom and wetly suck it into my
mouth, before taking a delicate bite, causing the juices to moisten my lips,
and spill along my chin.
His eyes
glaze and flutter ever so briefly. His hand squeezes my thigh ever so gently. We’re
silent for a moment.
“My,” he
speaks in a low, wolfish, growl “such a hungry little thing.”
My nerves
are screaming and my face feels like it’s on fire. “Maybe. The strawberry felt
so good in my mouth,” I pause, “…’cause it was so sweet and sticky.” His eyes
flare with menace and he smiles.
I want to
bury my face in the pillows. This isn’t me. I mean, it isn’t, right?
His hand
rubs along my thigh softly, and the other brushes along my jaw with a
feather-light touch, directing me to look back at him.
He’s
beautiful. He’s so strong and rugged. And gentle and tender too.He’s about
to speak, but before he can, I’m filling his mouth with my tongue.
We explode.
His arms wrap around me, as I climb on top of him for our embrace. We’re kissing each other like horny high-schoolers after our very first sip of wine.
We explode.
His arms wrap around me, as I climb on top of him for our embrace. We’re kissing each other like horny high-schoolers after our very first sip of wine.
I can’t
stop. I don’t want to. I want this. I
need this.
His hands
roam my back. I find myself grinding down hard on his lap. I feel a rock-hard
surprise for me.
Ash’s
strong hands cradle my ass, as I lean back and begin to tug my top over my
head. His lips never leave mine as we tumble about the couch. I lean back on my
thighs, and he unbuttons his shirt, and then yanks his undershirt off.
Wow. Just
wow.
He’s got
muscle, that’s for sure, but he’s also solid. A real man. He makes me feel so feminine. I want to reach down and
touch him, but I can’t find the courage. My head is swimming with heated
thoughts.
He gently
takes my hand in his, and I demurely bite my lip. He likes that.
Ash guides our
hands along his chest. I can feel the caged power that is his body. His skin is
soft, but his muscles are so hard. I think I gasp, but I’m not sure.
I want him.
I want to devour him. I want him inside me, filling me. But, I can’t ask. I’m
trapped by wracking shyness.
Suddenly, my
knight in shining armour decides to rescue me.
“Do you
like what you see, pretty girl?” he’s tender and kind, it’s arousing, like
seeing a super-hot single dad playing with his kids in the park.
I nod once,
still biting my lip. Normally, I would’ve made fun of girls who do this, but he
seems to love it.
“Do you
want to see what’s under my clothes?” he asks with a playful grin. I slowly
nod, forcing myself to breathe. It’s hard, since I’m so charged.
Our fingers
are still intertwined. His hands are calm. Mine are probably clammy and
shaking. I’m grinding on his lap. I’m hoping he’ll get the idea. I’m silently
begging for him to initiate.
“Pretty
girl,” he begins, pausing for suspense, “…can we see what’s under your
clothes?”
I whimper a
yes, my face buried in his strong shoulder. I’m riding him so hard, and hearing
those words sets off the fireworks in my mind.
I would’ve
liked the first time that we played to be more romantic, probably more
Hollywood-ish. I don’t
know, I would’ve liked to have been all dolled up, with
make-up and lingerie. Although, as a former tomboy, I’d probably have to go to eHow
to figure out how to do all of that stuff.
But I
don’t. I don’t need any of that. He’s hard and ready, and wants to play with me
exactly as I am, right here, right now. Something about how accepting and how
ready he is turns me on incredibly.
What
happens next is a bit of a blur.
I’m still
on top of him, but my hospital pants are bunched up over the handlebars of my
exercise bike. I don’t know which one of us threw them over there.
I’m
grinding like crazy, my face buried in his neck. It’s warm, and comforting, and
smells like a man: faint traces of cologne, Ivory soap, and sweat. It drives me
wild.
I don’t
know when, but his pants are off. He’s wearing snug boxer briefs that showcase
his strong thighs oh so very nicely. He’s rock hard, and the fabric around the
end of his bulge is darkening. Then, they’re off.
I love
cock, don’t get me wrong, but I love the feel of it. It’s warmth, and hardness.
Feeling it against me, and knowing it wants to be in me. So good.
I’m riding
him hard. When I realize that the only thing keeping our bare flesh from
touching is the thin, soaked fabric of my panties, I bite my lip hard. I want
to scream out, but that’s not me.
“Lean back
for me?” he asks with reassuring patience.
I do as he commands.
With a kind
look, he asks if he can take a closer look at my panties.
I don’t
know why he asks, because he knows he can do anything he wants. But I love it. I love fulfilling his desires. I
love how he asks.
I start to
get up, but he tugs me back. Instead, he slides the wet fabric of my underwear
to the side, revealing my aching little slit.
I’m nervous
because I haven’t prepared, or shaved, or trimmed, or…
And all of
that fades against the chorus that my blood is screaming. I don’t care. I just
want him. Any way I can get him. Now.
With one
hand grasping my ass, the other begins to tease at the slippery flesh between
my legs. The way I’m sitting on him causes my dark hair to part, revealing the
pink slit underneath...